Sleep

Sleep. I rest easy, deeply, as the ether rolls over my body; I fall away from the great realm of the conscious, and into the marked slumber of the anesthetized. Colours. Spinning through my head like upturned pots of paint; Flying through the air, they spray their hues and bright tones everywhere as I lay comatose. Dreams. Once more my brain confuses me with strangeness; pictures that sit emblazoned on the walls of my subconscious. Just another way I visualize. Why? Because I took leave of my mind and my control, my body and my soul, and I never wished to be anymore than a shell for a spirit to live inside of. Do you know me?